Let my INK SPLASH

                Avinash shouted back on me for what I advocated then, breaking the quietude air amidst us. "Abe yahi sach hai yaar, why are you getting so patriotic?" good part of me replied to placate him.

It wasn't for the first time we lighted the fire between us on a social issue. Living with a 'jaagruk' roomy often makes it possible. Yet, this time it was me with some concrete statements to throw at him. Let me tell you, you are a part of 3rd Largest Educational System of the World. Did I hold you in awe? For the record, this is true and was well highlighted in a daily newspaper. Yes, we hold the third standing position on the stage with China and the United Sates joining us in the line ahead. However, the elusive top isn't strong enough to fade the irony that we educate only half as many people from the university age group as China does. You must have heard about the 'Times Higher Education' current 2011 polls, those which question of mere existence of quality education on Indian grounds. Yeah! you can for a while feel proud and condemn me boasting about the ranks of IIMs, IITs among top 100s of the world but to rectify your notes those stats are rusted. It was long before in 2005 and 2006. No Indian name was tagged below the huge figure 500 in 2011 by the same body of London. So let your pride rest in your pocket. Moreover, the number of Noble Laureates that our nation has seen so far is like a drop in the sea for such a large Educational System.

 

                I made Avinash finally silent and I can even make you stumble. The report of National Association of Software and Services Companies lists 85% graduates of general education and 75% of Technical Education unfit for employment. Haha... puzzled to fathom how much are you suitable for a job? If not, you will in the near future. The lack of numerous single university systems has lead us this way and we have gone so far that even chest-beating cries of the Indian students now won't even touch the eardrums of our 'Educated Netaas'. Can anyone find a reset button so that we can refresh and restore the quiescent system? It doesn't need a committee of experienced old minds to understand what ails our current educational system. The answer is well known but big enough to swallow for the bureaucrats; those who run the money-engines for our corrupt netaas. Secure a respectable score of 93% in board exams and you will find yourself eligible for the Ivy College of US but you will be ditched by the Delhi University. Yes, we can be proud of our quantity but have to keep our heads down while defining the quality.

                What's even more perturbing is how we are bound to rag pick whatever is being thrown by our Gurus. No 3 idiot team must have been able to make them see the corrosion they are reinforcing. Certainly, there are roadblocks to deal with but it is a professor who can only guide a student through them. What we are left with is directions to steer our life clear of innovations or otherwise we will be holding big zeroes in exams. There's no-one to cure us, the victims of Indian Educational System, who are taught 'to be an employee' rather than 'to be an employer'. 

                The time waits to see an Anna rising for it and I'll pray for the same. Till then keep the tag tight on your forehead: "Hum hain chaupat RAJA"

To know what PRAYAAS is all about I leave you with the introduction video. If this lifts your emotions then please do not ever let them sit down back again. You may be sitting far away but a helping hand in any form will only lead to the growth of several ‘Kalaams of India’. Teach and preach the word PRAYAAS                                                                                                                                                                                                                          
                 
  

The results were out and my hard work paid off for me. Frayed enough by the time of preparation my mind was now ready to live in leisure. “Yes I am gonna be an owner of my first lappi J”- smile were all the way on my face then. The number of competitors had grown considerably and as a result there stood a pronounced gap between performance and style. With branded names laid huge price tags rendering only doubts and little sorrow for picking the right choice. Simplicity at its best and descriptive tersely-“Beautifully Intelligent” was sure enough my taste during the tech search although to find one falling in the row was tough. You can’t just pick any rank in the chosen price line; you’ll surely seek all the gaps to look for the one that makes you say “awesomeness redefinedJ”.

(I puked all of this as soon as I got to know that my end semester result is waiting to ruin the ‘Happy Ending’ of my summer vacation. This word is so brutal that it even shatters your dreams into pieces during your sleep. I had to write all about it to relax myself. Is giving an exam not more than enough to test one’s altruistic features? I have to shatter every enjoyment that I can have before exam starts and now this result thing will tell the world how good I am. Why don’t they just promote everyone to the next stage of the game? I dream of curses and only curses for whosoever claimed this examination system in our studies. L )

                       

                          How many hours did I spend in watching T.V???

                          How many times did I organise a bunk???

                          How many hours did I on games???

                          ....................

 the length of the list doesn’t matter for you then and every breath is spend to demand for some praiseworthy after effects from God.

The stars have been chosen and their names have been filed in the star cast list of some great movies like IIT, AIEEE, PMT, DU etc. etc. But still the devil word RESULT, as for me, remains attached with them. The spectators want a great show from all of them and it is this word RESULT that tells about their performance. Some actors enjoy the course and some continue to suffer. The only dream the latter group has- "My day will come....my day will come...."

"Oh bhai! jara side hona...", he said taking the bald part of his head out of the car window. It was a black honda city I guess which rested somehow beneath his clumsy fat belly. I was near the Subhash Chauraha waiting for the college bus to get back to my hostel room. But going to civil lines always features some incident like the one above pouring more strength to the animosity in my mind. His request may be simple but was filled with lot of arrogance. He went off speeding amidst the traffic at the chauraha while I still stood with burning eyes there.

College weekends are the only days when we can give our feet the tatse other than the usual ones- classrooms and hostels. I am sure mine feels lot delightful while thumping on the marble floors in the PVR or inside the Big Bazar. Do the feet enjoy alone the treat? Ah! Not at all, my eyes too participate by focusing the pretty feminine charm those show up in large numbers especially on the weekends in the city. Allahabad has got nothing else except its history, the Sangam and Civil Lines to feel proud of and so the latter most is the best hub to watch the fashion show well displayed by the two genders of the society on the weekends. J Okay! I am done with the background; now let's proceed to the main part.

Hmmm...so I was there still waiting for my bus. 20mins still left making room for a little roam around beside the city busiest roads. The 'animosity'- what is it all about? Well it is about the pain that drops on my head like a big anvil every time when I find myself to be small. You see it is since I recognised that I belong to a middle class family. Now do not misinterpret it as if I am cursing my family background (be  with your common sense)! But, I curse every bigwig who poses him\herself to be a bigwig. I know the truth and the world around them know it too, that they are breathing in a high class environment with a car, with a bungalow and with etc. etc. but what to boast about? Don't they have brains to notice we all have the same 27% oxygen (don't go on figures) to live in? They do, but still they find it sensible, I don't know from which part, to behave like a moron in front of the society. Even you may feel like bribing them, for making them to speak to you most of the times, like their self speaks only to the high class. And whom do you consider the real butchers of our nation's language? Yes they top the list. Don't deny, you have the examples, don't you? "Oh shit! Honey it's so disgusting over here"- bloody morons. Walking on the road and taking the keen observant out of you will surely add some more examples for your diary. I have many of them; the space over here is not enough.

Honk honk! And here comes the bus to end this ruminating city road walk of mine. I can swallow that uncle but being modest I swallowed my anger. I wanna work hard in my studies (to be in my car one day) not to be one amongst them but definitely to set an example for those who lose their original self and roam around wearing the attitude, for those who roam around with Hindi language suffocating in their heavy pockets, for those who easily forget that they are still a human being.

J turned into a L for a good period of time for me. Yes life is full of difficulties and this is best realised in practical sense when a student has to write the answer sheets. The requisite required to hold the question papers with confidence- drop out all your masti hours long before, pay good attention in class and ask your eyes not to wander around while studying. But are these so easy to procure??? Well, with computer games on my finger tips, with cricket and IPL matches on the go, with an 'always ready to go' on a tour to civil lines- it does not seem so 'easy'. The teachers leave no stones unturned to blow away the jovial self of me whose traces I try to hide beneath them. Assignments, tests and hangouts with chums now scheduled in laboratories instead of college canteen gift nothing else but Goosebumps.

It's of no use, for now, to contemplate and dig out the faults that lie in Indian Education System. But, asking my mind to stop creating various possibilities to skip the studies doesn't serve any purpose to the money my parents are investing. So I have to inflict the pain and stress and plead God to strengthen me for the BIG FIGHT. 'Change is Good', heard about that? But a change sucking the happines from inside, calling for the chats to shift from your friends to the immortal books, imposing fear of bad grades- not good from any angle. This change only keeps my pulses buried deep in worries married with tensions. For all the abysmal efforts that a student puts into, he should be tapped fully in the end even though he might not be holding a seat on the cliff.

Have to hibernate for some time amidst the stupid courses.

There was he?

Don't know if

he'll become a child prodigy.

New arms to swing all around

with big eyes and a cute face

his presence only profound.

He takes his thumb

all in his mouth;

his groans and laugh

are also in the list,

which makes his mother

feel so proud. J

He looked at me often,

I think was trying to converse

thumped his fist

and bent his leg

but I didn't give his attention

any shed.

And then he

took his most expensive weapon

with which he

roams around all over

like holding the Olympic beacon.

It was his laugh

a very sweet,

but a shrieking one though

although there were no teethes

but it was all enough

to attract any mob.

Finally, I had to give up

for the innocence

he posed in his profile

so took my arm close to his

to perform a shake hand.

I chuckled then

not like him, obviously,

but poked his fluffy cheeks

very nicely.

All above is only the gist

& it will take lot more pages

to write about him, who is for the world

‘A New Gift’.

                It was 9:40 pm, paa on bed and maa sitting beside me on the armchair taking the dinner. We all were watching ‘Desh k Dhurandar’ a show at NDTV India. The show was trying to probe into the lives of the famous Indian cricketers- Sachin, Yuvraj, Dhoni etc. Basically the ambition was to forecast the zoom in version of the piercing pebbles that were laid on the path to success of these cricket heroes. From the way they looked in their diapers to the way they look holding the golden cup in their powerful hands- the reporters prepared a whole bunch well to shake the young Indian youths.

A perfect documentary presenting a museum of pictures, Dhoni hitting a six as Sachin lifting his bat high in the air- all enough to paint a smile on every Indian’s face. The show offered a gist of biographies of all 3 of them. The way their talent erupted and well fed from the initial stage- all with the help of relatives and yes their magic wand: a cricket bat. It was an inspiring story session that every Indian boy, who love cricket in any form, wants to be in.

The show then threw some light on their ground realities bringing out what Sachin dreamt about and how he is breathing cricket every second since his childhood days. And it was then when my father asked me “Gaurav beta, what you dream about?” with a smile on his face and lots of expectation gleaming in his eyes. Although my eyes met his for a fraction of second but that was enough to feel the blaze. That was all enough to remind me that I have to be mature now and have to accomplish what I don’t look at. That I am growing up, that I shouldn’t waste time anymore, that now I should breathe my goal.

Such moments force you to ponder in length and they help you to be on the right side of the court too. They are not to bring tears in your eyes but they are to poke you so that you stop dreaming, so that you can trigger your actions well before time to achieve those dreams and so that you wake up to run amidst the realms.

I smiled coyly but tried to talk to him by telepathy, to assure him, to say just one thing-

“I will DAD, I will...”

                Don’t worry, am not writing any news over here to hold your heart beats, but I am sure the same banner does shoot every second, now and then, on your TV screen. Sometimes the effect is from back to front or they shoot it at the bottom. In fact at moments the two words dominate the whole screen even.

This magic tool is just one amidst the numerous others, which aim at making the current news market more & more exaggerated in terms of looks. No one cares about the contents of their shop and all of them sprint in the race to be the best, merely forecasting the whereabouts of their shops. Gone are the days of news on DD-National, a quick 30 mins review of the nation’s health, more delightful. To the point and to speak in brief was the goal of our older news versions. And now the new comers barely have some brain to focus upon proving themselves to be a total waste of space. India wins the World Cup and every newsroom file bundles to publish in the context. It looks like the reporters get a leave for 2-3 days on such occasions and such interesting answers they supply to us to the most ‘important ‘ queries:

“India ka World Cup jeetna aapke lie kitna maaene rakhta hai?”

‘Important ‘ queries, aren’t they? May be not for us, but the common mass to whom they are put for, yes they are for it’s the only platform where a common face can show itself without any efforts on the TV. I must say the best explanation of a situation is well described by the reporters at such mega headlines only.

I wish their sensibility can feedback to their selves then and there to make them sensible. I don’t say the winning moment is not of any worth but in the row other parts of the nation are crying too and that’s what a news channel should bring in focus. Even the VIPs can’t sleep quietly-

God! And in the same way the successive days witness headlines with no roots and no wings-

“Breaking News: Dhoni abhi abho apne ghar pahunche hain...”

‘World Cup’ is not the only issue, which is made fun of with all above craps, it is just a little current one where I saw the blathering as above.

I am sure my most elders miss the same old DD-National half an hour news without any nonsense interruptions and without any advertisements whereas now-a-days the rubbish adds overshadow the major portions. I only wish the news media grows more discernibly.

                The flights took off and finally their hip-hops took a stop as the ausies leave our country. “Happy journey friends”. Am I too aggressive and excited??? May be, but now I’m a grown up and I just kicked on their white faces who snatched the CUP from me in 2003. The day when our DADA (Ganguly) got sad, the day when the criticisms on my innocent captain got mad- so this aggro of mine is rightly justified. Although I could not stab my close friend's (Pointing) dream of stopping our MASTER (Sachin) from scoring 100 but I did made his century suite well the smells of dustbin. My master did his job by laughing well on the sweet spells Lee-Tait-Jhonson to add taste to India's victory and that was well enough from his side. All right, I should say "NICE tragic hero (to pointing) but we chased well J".

Sad but still a painful truth of India's victory is my captain's swinging bat. Yeah! his strategies work but where is the fire from his hand??? Is the 10 glass full milk, that he used to drink daily, being spent somewhere else??? God knows!  But he does prove the everlasting Indian Cricket theory- "SMILE PLEASE! for you are a hero- ‘until’ you are married" His hands now have ego as they want the ball to come and kiss them while they sleep close to his body. And his bat? emmmm...well it merely swings madly to play the dust in air and not the ball. Yuvi is my hero now, who hung in there for last 365days with patience to gather all his energy for WC-2011. He struggled badly with his form during last year, lost all his fans and yes the camera lens too. And now the Punjab king is playing the role of saviour in every match for India on the WC stage, surely his female fans are now kissing his posters back, for sure (& thank god! he's not married yet J). The Indian squad has first time proved they to fit for the world champions title in the row of matches played so far. Although we pushed the defending champions out of the line but some hot bloods like Gambhir have to look on their energy meter that shows spikes when not needed in the field. Why he's always in a hurry to run on the pitch???

I won't show any bad sign through my fingers, for now, to my chums (I can't criticize them in public) who always support the other team facing India as for now. Reason??? The CUP is still two big matches away wherein the first one will be challenged by our neighbours (Afridi's boys) and later by another bigwig too. But I do want to bang the table loud to pierce their diaphragms by holding the 27years old Indian dream- Cricket World Cup.

Fear is well defined for each one of us & so for me. You may use the word ‘pseudo’ to describe mine but I won’t. You read the title and must have guessed it- I am a victim of Holi-phobia. It has been since I recognised I my diapers. Shrieking & peeing coyly on the colour holding intruder used to be my weapon when I was smaller than a child. Hands of clock kept rolling and I grew up holding my bat in my hand- my new weapon for the enemies. Moreover, my trials to preach them that putting colours on oneself is worthless always drowned in the pool of vain.

The day this festival comes, my genie shivers like rattle-snake’s tail (No, do not ask me ‘why’). Even the behaviour of my relatives takes a churlish look and they all grin in my face. Obviously it then gets tough to swing bat in air because their true identity hides under ugly face' black/red finish (YUK!). So, being modest enough I hold a defend strategy and have to take shelter in bathroom. Big bangs on the door or a high pitched scolding from my father; neither of them can shake my belief- I HATE HOLI.

I do appreciate PRAHLAAD’s effort of slaying down the dark forces but whose effort was to enjoy this with nasty colours???

I have turned into a grown up but my dislike for this day sustains. However now they expect me to be sensible and ‘so I am’ J- instead of lifting my bat, I prefer taking bath early in the morning. I put on expensive clothes from my trunk and so no one even eyes on me. Although this action leaves a tag on my head (from my kith & kin’s) - ‘cretin’; I don’t mind it (hehe...). Rather it’s sweet of them because the tag that my chums put on me contain words not to be spoken of here (stop thinking).

My appeal today is still the same- why to colour yourself and then try hard to remove them slogging for hours inside under water- complete wastage of natural resource and time.

Is going home always delightful? The answer to the same erupted in a most horrible way to me during this holi vacation. Need not mention, it was like fleeing from all college worries but unfortunately there was no direct bus to my home town Renukoot. So I took the one that was ready to drop me about 50kms behind at Chopan. I took a place near the end of a seat and one not beside a window as the rough wind would dangle my hairs- disturbing for my profile look. I felt like am on a religious tour as the primary constituents of the vehicle were all senior citizens. Not even a single young pretty girl around to disturb my hormonesL. No more choices left- I finally tucked in my head phones to feed in some music inside me. Travelling in these roadways buses during festive periods of the year will surely remind you of ‘Kumbh Mela’ (a hindu festival) as you are bound to hear the chit-chats of the chaos breathing loudly all around you. And it is then you notice that you should have spent some more to buy a high volume music phone.

My journey takes a break at Mirzapur- a stop to appease the thirsty bus engine and the thirsty travellers too. It was then I found that I forget to make my purse heavy before sprinting from the hostel. And thus I was ‘unable’ to eat. The clock winked at me saying 8 p.m. & I’d reach home not later than 12 a.m.- so not to worry much. My belly then decided to relax and remain unconcerned for the cries of the mice within it. At this point of time it is important to mention that ‘I am not frugal’ (for a girl who reads this ;)). Journey continues and some new members of the bus replace the old ones. The yellow eyes of the government vehicle kept itself busy in hunting down for the obstacles around the corners while the driver alarms them through the monotonic horn- an aversion for me. The road appeared strange and spooky as it revealed itself amidst the dark atmosphere. It was strangely calm all around.

9:30pm suddenly I felt like the bus shifted in a frenzy state and it came right when my ears noticed the long high pitch cry of the engine. It was a sleaze stop for all of us. The tube carrying water to the radiator burst out and white smoke from the engine dressed the air then. Call of driver to get out of bus and now we were on the roads. As no water was lying in vicinity the conductor asked the head-station at Mirzapur to send another one. Meanwhile, the ramshackle driver was gifted with all the nonsense advices from the mob. Although I am an engineering student but not yet learnt to calm down an angry mob with my worthy scientific reasons. All they demanded of was to reach home even at the cost of being exploded. The driver was continuously molested to drive the bus slowly till the next stop- drama lasted for about 3hrs.

12 a.m. I thank God for not displaying a mercy killing of the driver :D. Another bus arrived and people jumped at ots opening without giving a thought to the pain they were supplying to others. It was getting more tiresome.

4 a.m. Chopan, the 2^nd last stop, welcomed me with just one street light and a cold breeze. Half an hour swept away and since last afternoon no food in my belly. As the chilling air kept sucking the left over heat a bolero speeding away took a time to care for this teenager. I am not a hitchhiker so am not well aware of the meetings with strangers and so the uncle inside with long beards appeared a lot pesky to my mind. But when you sense the happiness of home food closing in it is worth giving such freaky guy a company. Finally I was in Renukoot when my clock punched me shouting 6 a.m. i just dozed off on bed at home. “What a delightful journey”

You sit and study during exams- you are gonna get loads of thoughts to write on but when your exams get over they run far away leaving no traces that could be used to find them. L but while playing a game I got a call from my sis and so one of the thought came. Go on take a taste of it!

Sis:  “ Slow down the volume of T.V please!”

Me: ”Why? I won’t, its my favourite cartoon, hunh :@”

............

Sis: “Hey don’t read loudly, you can study that even in your mind”

Me: “Maybe, but i can’t concentrate fully on the matter while doing that :>”

............

Me: “Di, make something delicious naa...”

Sis: (maa not at home) “Eat whatever I make, I have to study also.”

............

Do you like to share something with your sis??? Truly speaking I don’t. What? Don’t frown at me, why should I share my cookie with her when maa made for both of us (although she gave the bigger one to me), why should I hand over the remote whenever she demands (can’t she watch cartoons- they are so coooooooool) and why should I be the one to hear scolding from father although she pulled my legs in first place?

The sole answer- She is my elder Sister. Three years age difference costs so much was something I always mull over.  My sister’s name is Akanksha and it does suits her because she has loads of them. I see her face like an onion in an upright orientation; God knows how come my relatives associate the adjective ‘pretty’ with her. Long hairs, height shorter than me :D and an attitude like a princess are the words that I would couple her with. As far as I remember we fought since I started thinking about my rights at home. When you are the smaller one you have to keep a close eye on your assets because the bigger ones, around you, don’t preach humanity. Be it a new pencil box, a new pen or a bag of sweets; you have to be ready to look more innocent and lively to increase your luxury. And that used to be my master plan:> ALWAYS.

The clock continued its journey as we grew up and we were seeking to become friends. Sis used to tech me maths and English- a push to my playing time space as homework was done ahead with her help. Thereafter I felt that she is not so bad, I mean she is the one with whom I can play cricket while being at home (ya we used to do that) or whom I can ask for help when maa was ready to shout at me for my mistakes. When you are a child you are the biggest risk taker; no worries of being caught in the court of parents while committing a perjury- for me sis stands as my advocate J

We used to study in same school- Nirmala Convent High School, Renukoot and she 3 classes ahead of me as usual. Sad part of my life; as I had to be limited with the old books left over by her. “Take a rubber and erase the write ups, no need of new books”- the same speech by father when results were out after every exam. But one thing I am proud of :D is sis was always asked to take a leaf out of my book as I scored higher than her.

Hmmm...don’t know why but...I used to feel sad for her sometimes. I started growing up, as I noticed and sympathy started to find room in my mind. You have to pay back to the advocate but in our case I was too selfish. I realised- getting food in absence of maa is more than enough instead of crying for delicious treats. And how I turned into a loner when she went to college- a pathetic side of this story. Times when you have to manage all your studies on your own, when no one stops you from reading loudly, when no one is their to snatch sweets from, when no one is their to play pranks on...it does transforms you into a loner and asks you to prepare yourself for the future. A future where the world shouts “Be Independent” all the time and where the emotions start losing their sweet rhymes.

Now I am in a college and sis is also studying in one, we both away from home. Now we focus more on our carrier than on our fights but I want all of these to be mere myths. Being a child is always enjoyable than being a stupid (everyone is) grown up. I won’t say this ever to her ”My sis is the best one” (cos she will definitely hug me then) but I would definitely break the silence by shouting “Hey didi” whenever I earn a glance of her.

Oh yes! please take your frown back because now I define the word share by giving her one complete cookie of mine (although she doesn’t takes it J )